Last night I dreamed the museum of forgotten greetings

I'm walking through a museum where every exhibit is a greeting I never finished — a handshake frozen mid-air, a bow that won't complete, a forehead kiss hovering an inch from the cheek. The plaques are written in a language I almost know, and there's a tea ceremony in the back room where nobody drinks, they just keep passing the cup. I woke up feeling like I'd missed a dozen appointments I never actually had.